Small Sounds

[Hook: Samples with Scratches by Jazz Spastiks]
“The way I flip it is embarrassing” (x2)
“No comparison”
“The way I flip it is embarrassing”

[Verse 1: C-Rayz Walz]
You just lost one. Full price could cost all
I build and destroy, cultivate catalog
Analog and digital, physical and camouflage
It is what it is, it’s a beast at large
Going in circles is what makes you a square
And it’s that left-brain thinking that’ll keep you right here
I’m so swift, in The Flash, I bag lightning
Lips are pen needles on-point, but I’m past writing
Frozen lava, elephant tusk and drama breath
Smells like piranha death, it bubbles in the water
Bad to the bone like skeletal disorder
Mad to the stone, hardrocks out of order
Disney characters get snatched out your magic castle
And strangle with a thorn lasso—that’s the
Point of the cipher, to perform like Paul astral
And fuck shit up through the psalm, this form natural

[Hook: Samples with Scratches by Jazz Spastiks]
“The way I flip it is embarrassing” (x2)
“No comparison”
“The way I flip it is embarrassing”

[Verse 2: C-Rayz Walz]
Keep babbling ‘til you walk through the hood and catch
A javelin straight through your abdomen. You hateful
And arrogant—that’s why love’s gonna get ya
When thoughts traveling, we overhear/over here now
And you should hang it up with your souvenir style
(Hahahahaha) Let me see your bugged dance
Dehydrated dyads drag, sap potential
Minus math, the path is never sequential
The flag, man, women, and child. Where’s the mental?
Physical in spirit if you enter influential
I’m solid, liquid, and gas, grab the pencil
And blast hot lead off the Arm ‘til it rips through
Leg-Leg-Arm-Head instrumentals
Speak your mind, go ‘head, show me what I’m into. You think
Shit is real, right? Well, I imagine it is. Fuck it
Abort the mission ‘cause I ain’t having it, kid

[Hook: Samples with Scratches by Jazz Spastiks]
“The way I flip it is embarrassing” (x2)
“No comparison”
“The way I flip it is embarrassing”

[Verse 3: C-Rayz Walz]
Of course (who would say that?) I’m George on the playback
Turn Force to 8-tracks (“the way I flip…”)
To overthrow the establishment of your mind design
And realign the spine (“the way I flip…”)
‘Til everything is crystalline—sing! I got lines
You’ll never catch off the top like Mr. Clean
Still shining, the fluid can’t be contained
But I still do it, only the truest remain
Choke artists with a gag order, gleeking
Every time I fought art, it’s the illest shit leaking
Straight out of Soundwave’s chest, I’m Rude ravaging
Don’t make me scream, “Box!” it’s quite embarrassing

[Outro: Sample]
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